Of Matchmaking and Quidditch
by denied
Summary: Romantic star-gazing, a trip to the Burrow. What happens when Harry plays cupid for our favorite couple? This is, what I like to call, a series of events, that will leave you asking yourself, "huh?" Just kidding. Not a lot of fluff--I don't think, post-Ho


Author's Note:  I wrote this fic for the DHr Valentine Fic Exchange.  The conditions are at the end.  The characters might seem OOC or whatever, but I hope you all enjoy it nevertheless.  

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to JKR.  I only own the plot (well, the requester of this fic actually owns the plot).  

*  *  *  *  *

_July, 1999_

_Friday_

_2:00 pm_   
  


"Ah," Draco Malfoy sighed, propping his feet up on the table in front of him. "It's nice to finally have some time off." He smirked, "Don't get me wrong…I still love Quidditch. It's just that I seem to always have piles of fan mail to go through, interviews to deal with, photo shoots to attend. And on top of all that, I have grueling practices, and the actual games, themselves. The life a famous Quidditch player is a hard one." He took swig from his warm mug of Butterbeer and gave another satisfied sigh. 

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. Draco's ego had doubled, if that was even possible, since he had been recruited as the Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons. 

"Yes, your manicured hands and expensive designer robes definitely indicate a life filled with hardships," Ron muttered, downing his shot of Odgen's Old Firewhisky. 

"Well, it's like I always say," Draco drawled, "It's a matter of whether you look at life as 'the goblet being half-full or half-empty.' I like to keep an optimistic attitude, and if that includes treating myself to a lifestyle of decadence, then who am I to deny myself of that which makes me happy?" 

This time it was Hermione's turn to snort. She exchanged a 'here we go again' look with Harry and emptied her cold bottle of Butterbeer. 

Meeting at the Leaky Cauldron had become almost a tradition for the four. It started with the four of them, happening to be there at the same time to eat lunch, out of coincidence. Their busy lifestyles had caused a lack of communication between them, after their graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But after that chance meeting, they started showing up at the Leaky Cauldron, once a week for lunch. 

Their class at Hogwarts had graduated a year earlier and by the time they had graduated, the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters had been resolved. Harry had fulfilled the prophecy by killing the Dark Lord, and the Death Eaters had either been killed in battle or they had been captured and taken to the wizarding prison, Azkaban. 

As for how 'the Trio' had ended up being friends with Draco Malfoy, let alone Hermione becoming engaged to the former hater-of-everything-Muggle…well, let's just say that _that _is a whole different story, in itself. It would be easier to just sum it up in one, simple sentence. He realized that, in the end, the 'good' side would most likely come out on top, so, staying true to his nature, Draco chose the winning side and fought the Death Eaters right alongside the illustrious trio, during the final battle.   
  


"Well, look at the time," Hermione said, glancing at her wristwatch. "I have to get back to the office." 

She stood up and walked around the table to where her smug fiancé sat. "Draco, darling, I'll see you at your flat, tonight." She winked at him and then turned her attention to her two best friends. "Harry, Ron," she said, acknowledging both men, "I hope you have a lovely day, and I'll Floo to the Burrow, bright and early, tomorrow at Eight." 

"I'm not sure what time zone you're living in Hermione, but where I come from, Eight' o'clock is considered _late _not _early_," Ron said, thickly. 

"Erm…Ron," Hermione paused, "I meant Eight' o' clock in the _morning_." 

"Oh…right," Ron replied.   
  


Some things never change.   
  
  
  


***   
  
  
  


**_Rewind: 6 months ago…_**   
  


_January, 1999_

_Tuesday_

_2:00 pm_   
  
  


Harry asked to meet Draco for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, a favorite and convenient place to meet for Harry. After taking two hours off from work as an Auror, he finally had convinced Draco to go on a blind date. 

…

"Look, Draco, all you have to do is show up at the restaurant for dinner. It's not like you're making a lifelong commitment, or anything," Harry pleaded with Draco. 

"Potter," Draco started, angrily, "first off, I don't go on blind dates; and secondly, I can't standItalian food."   
  


"Come on, it's only _one _date," Harry said, starting to become frustrated. "And it's not like you have to do it alone. If you want, Ginny and I can double with you." 

Draco gave Harry a dubious look before sighing heavily. "No, there's no need for you and Ginny to play the role of 'the chaperones'…just stop whining." 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Harry said, a big grin spread across his face. "You have just made me a very happy man." 

"A happy man who is going to pick up the check," Draco replied, gesturing to the untouched check on the table. 

Harry never said that the person Draco would be meeting would be someone that he already knew. 

Smirking at his own private joke, that wasn't really funny, he said, "Fine, I'll get the check. Come over to my flat, tonight at six' o' clock." 

Standing up, Draco tossed his napkin on the table and Apparated away, but not before saluting Harry.   
  


***   
  


_Same Day_

_Harry's Flat_

_5:45 pm_   
  


"So we're agreed, Hermione?" Harry asked. 

"Fine, if that is what it'll take to get you to shut up, I'll go," Hermione, who was quite annoyed with her green-eyed friend, said. 

"Great," Harry said, enthusiastically, "I'll come around your place, say, tomorrow around the same time?" 

"Okay, Harry. Tomorrow at Five' o' clock, my place," Hermione said, distractedly. 

She gathered her cloak and purse and started walking towards the door. Turning around, she said, "Hey, Harry, can I borrow ten Sickles? I'm going to ride the Knight Bus because I don't feel up to Apparating." 

After graduating, Hermione had taken up a position for the Ministry of Magic, where she was the head of a researching department. Mainly they researched to find counter spells to the Unforgivable curses. Naturally, after having to read through endless amounts of notes and books, and testing possible counters, that sadly never worked, her brain was fried at the end of her usual ten-hour day, and her exhausted state would leave little energy, let alone, the energy it takes to Apparate. 

"Yeah, sure," Harry said. He reached into a glass bowl where he kept excess pocket change, mainly Sickles and Knuts, and handed Hermione the appropriate change. 

"Thanks," Hermione said. She hastily opened the door and was starting to walk out, when she collided with something…or someone, rather. 

"Are you okay?" Draco panicked.  "I mean, watch it, Granger," he muttered, before standing up. Hermione, too, was knocked to the ground from the impact, so while she stood up she muttered an apology. 

With that, Hermione had left and Draco had shut the door to Harry's flat. 

"You're early," Harry stated. 

Draco, who had moved to sit on Harry's sofa, was sitting with a silly grin on his face, his eyes had a glazed over look, as if he was in a trance. 

"Draco," Harry said moving his hand up and down in front of Draco's face. "Hello, is anyone home?" 

Draco didn't respond, so Harry did the next thing that popped up in his mind. He dumped a glass of cold water over Draco's head. 

That definitely brought Draco out of his stupor. 

Gasping in shock, Draco sputtered and screamed like a little girl. 

"Cold!" he cried, as he stood up and started jumping around. 

"Calm down there, Malfoy," Harry said, laughing. 

Draco immediately stopped jumping and sat back down. 

"A considerate host would, at least, get their wet guest a towel," Draco said after he had calmed down a bit. 

Harry stood up, pointed his wand at Draco, and administered a drying charm, resulting in a happier Draco. 

"Do I get the 'Host of the Year' award?" Harry asked, sarcastically. 

"Ha-ha-ha," Draco muttered, brushing off invisible lint from his shoulder. 

Harry sat down next to Draco on the sofa. Both men leaned forward, resting their elbows on their knees. Harry alternated between his hands to ruffle his hair, while Draco was having a 'Thinker' moment. 

"Harry," Draco sighed. 

"What?" Harry asked. 

"What do you mean 'what'?" Draco demanded. "I want to go home and sleep at some point tonight, so I was just wondering when you were going to enlighten me on what I need to know for this blind date you've been trying to set me up on." 

Harry, pretending to look offended, remarked, "Well, allow me to apologize for being a concerned friend. Your love life…or," he coughed, "lack thereof, frankly I was a bit worried about you." 

"So basically," Draco said in a calculating voice, "you took pity on my lack of play and decided to set me up with one of your drooling fan girls?" 

Harry blushed and replied, in a rather timid voice, "Erm…yes…?" 

"Urgh," Draco cried in exasperation. "Fine, I'll go along with your shenanigans this time." Pausing, Draco gave Harry a strained look. "But for future reference, I hate it when people take pity on me, especially people who are more pathetic." 

"Ouch, Draco, that really hurts," Harry said, not looking the slightest bit offended. "Anyhow, let's move on." 

Rolling his eyes, Draco sighed. "Okay."   
  


***   
  


_January, 1999_

_Friday (three days later)_

_Harry's Flat_

_6:30 pm_   
  


"So, I just let them know that I'm…he-he-he…sorry…I let them know that I'm a guest under the…ha-ha-ha…the…t-the…" from there, Draco burst out laughing. After catching his breath and calming down, he said, "I ask for the 'Potty—oops, sorry—Potter Party'?" 

Giving his blond friend a death glare, Harry sniffed, "I don't see what you find so humorous about that, but yes, the reservations have been made under my name, hence, you'll ask for the Pott_er_ party." 

Draco held Harry's glare, seeing if the raven-haired man would give in. Finally, Harry burst out laughing. 

"Okay…that sounds a bit strange, even to me," Harry admitted. 

"Glad to see you finally realize that," Draco replied. 

"Anyhow, yeah, ask about the reservations under my name and they'll take you to a VIP room, which is essentially a booth with a curtain to close you off from the rest of the restaurant." 

"Sounds easy enough," Draco remarked. 

"And afterwards you can Apparate here, if you'd like, and let me in on all of the juicy details of the date," Harry said, waggling his eyebrows.   
  


***   
  


_Same Day_

_The Restaurant_

_7:00 pm__ (half-hour later)_   
  


*POP* 

"Bonjour, monsieur," a bald man, who Draco assumed was the Host, greeted him. 

"Good evening," Draco replied. "I believe I have reservations under the Potter party." He tried to say the last part with a straight face, which he accomplished, but not easily. 

"Ah, yes, and may I have your name, sir?" the Host asked. 

"Malfoy," Draco said in a James Bondish way, "Draco Malfoy." 

"Here we are, very good, sir," the bald man replied. "If you will step right this way…" 

The Host walked into the dimly lit restaurant, and Draco followed. The sounds that drifted about were the clinking of glasses or cutlery scraping against a dish. 

They walked, what seemed, all the way to the opposite side of the restaurant, from where the lobby/apparition room was. Finally, the Host stopped in front of a drawn, velvet black curtain. Pulling a thick, white rope, the bald man stepped back to let Draco enter. 

The table wasn't small, but the privacy gave a cozy feeling to the booth. Draco didn't notice the occupant in a white dress, a look of shock gracing her features. Sitting down, Draco thanked the Host and the curtains were, once again, closed. The only sources of light were the three candles that were suspended in air, high above their heads. But even that didn't brighten up the very dim enclosure. 

Draco heard the distinct sound of someone clearing his or her throat. Looking up, he gasped in surprise. 

"Hermione?!"   
  


***   
  


**_Fast Forward: 6 months_**

_July, 1999_

_Friday_

_7:00 pm_   
  


After having a quick drink with Ron, Harry, and her fiancé, Draco, Hermione went back to her office. 

She had fun with her best friends and, of course, Draco, but all good things must come to an end, as she learned later on that evening.   
  


…   
  
  
  


"Thank you, Stan," Hermione said, giving him the seven Sickles that it cost to travel from the Ministry to Draco's flat. Draco was still the owner of the Malfoy Manor, but there were so many magical artifacts, mostly of dark origin, that he donated the property and everything in it to the Ministry, who turned it into a museum of magic. There were things in there that were dated back to the great wizard Merlin's era. So Draco bought a flat in the middle of London that was quite extravagant. Though he gave up the mansion in Wiltshire, he still received all of the money that was endowed to him. 

Walking up the stairs to his apartment, she finally reached the third floor. His flat was at the end of the hallway, but it was easy to remember which was his because it was the only one on the third floor. 

Knocking on the cherry red door—RAP—RAP—RAP—she waited for him to open it. And waited…and waited. Tapping her foot impatiently, she turned the doorknob, and opened the door, to her surprise. Normally, he kept it locked. There weren't even any charms, for security measures. 

"Draco…" she called, but there wasn't an answer. 

She walked into the open living room and still no Draco. She passed the kitchen, which was empty, and started to walk down the hall. The first door, the bathroom, was empty. But she expected as much because the light was off. That left either his office of bedroom. She decided to skip the office and go straight to the bedroom. 

The bedroom door wasn't shut all the way, so Hermione pushed it open. 

There were two half naked people, wrapped up in sheets, on the bed. Both with blonde hair, though one head of hair was white-blonder and the other was more dirty blonde. 

"Draco!" Hermione cried, "How could you!" She fled, down the hallway, through the living room, to the door. 

She heard, "Hermione, wait!" but she didn't stop. As she opened the door, she heard footsteps running after her, but that didn't stop her. She ran down the levels, second, and then the first. She ran out the entrance doors and into the pouring rain. _Shoot,_ she thought, _when did it start raining? _

If she had been thinking more clearly, she probably would have hailed the Knight Bus with her wand. But being in her distraught state, she kept on running through the rain. Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into an alley that she didn't realize was there. 

"Hermione," it was Draco. "Will you listen to me?" 

"Get your hands off of me, you man-whore," Hermione hissed. 

"But that's what I need to talk to you about. That wasn't me that you saw. It was all…" 

"Don't try to make up excuses," Hermione snarled. "I'm not stupid or blind and I know what I saw." 

Jerking away from his grasp, she stumbled back to the street, ignoring the tears that were pouring down her face. Although, it was a bit difficult to tell which was rain and which was tears. 

Gathering the energy and hoping it was enough, with a rather loud *POP* Hermione Apparated to her flat.   
  


*** 

**_Rewind: 3 months_**   
  


_April, 1999_

_Friday_

_11:00 pm_   
  


"What a beautiful night," Hermione murmured. 

After their first date, set up by Harry, Hermione and Draco hit it off. Evidently, Draco had been smitten with Hermione for quite some time, though he wouldn't admit it to her until after they were going out. They had been dating since that blind date and had loved every single moment they spent together. 

"Yes, but it must be jealous because it's not the most beautiful thing I see," Draco replied. 

"You know…you really ought to work on your pick-up lines. That was just too cheesy," Hermione commented. 

"All right, love," Draco sighed, as he nuzzled his face deeper into her bushy hair. They were sitting on her balcony. She was positioned between Draco's legs, her back against his stomach. Though it was dark because of the late hour, the sky was lit up with stars. And the moon was full and emitted a brilliant glow. 

"Hermione," Draco said, trying to get her attention. 

"What is it," Hermione said, turning to him, eyes full of concern. He never addressed her that seriously, unless it was important. But she failed to notice him waving his wand behind her back. 

"Look," Draco said, pointing to the star-lit sky. 

Hermione looked and gasped in awe. The stars that had looked like they were scattered, were now clumped together, forming a message, 

_Hermione, _

_Marry Me_

Hermione turned back to Draco, who was grinning. 

"How—" but she was cut off by the finger he placed over her lips. 

"Ssh," he replied. "Repress the urge to want to know everything and just answer the question." 

"Oh, Draco," Hermione cried with happiness. "Of course I'll marry you." She turned slightly so that she could wrap her arms around Draco's neck and they sat on her balcony, content enough to sit in the comforting silence and romantic atmosphere, star gazing and pondering on what their new life together would bring.   
  


***   
  


**_Fast Forward: 3 months_**

_July, 1999_

_Friday_

_9:00 pm_   
  


"Weasley," Draco growled, "I know she's there." 

"Even if she is," Ron started, "she doesn't want to even see you, let alone, talk to you." 

"I need to talk to her," Draco said, becoming more frustrated by the second. 

"No," Ron replied, and slammed the front door of the Burrow in Draco's face.   
  


…   
  


After the 'incident' at Draco's, Hermione Apparated to her apartment to grab an overnight bag and then Flooed to the Burrow, where she was always welcome to stay a few days at a time. 

She was utterly exhausted by the time she arrived in the fireplace of the Burrow. Dusting soot off her robes, she walked into the kitchen, where the Weasley family, or all those who were left living at home (Molly, Arthur, Bill and Charlie—only temporarily, Ron, and Ginny) were sitting around the kitchen table eating a hearty dinner. 

"Hermione, what a pleasant surprise," Molly got up to make a place for Hermione at the table. 

"Oh, no, Mrs. Weasley, I'm not hungry," Hermione waved her back down to her chair. "I am so sorry for this intrusion, but would it be all right if I spent the night?" 

Molly stood up to give Hermione a motherly hug, and held Hermione at arms length. 

"All right, if you're staying overnight, you might as well bunk with Ginny," Molly sighed. 

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione replied. 

Taking her overnight bag, Hermione trudged up the stairs to Ginny's room, while the Weasley family was left to giving questioning and concerned stares to each other while they watched her retreating back.   
  


… 

_After Dinner_

_Ginny's room_   
  


"Hermione, what did that pansy do to you? What did he say?" Ron asked, quite furiously. 

"First of all, Ron," she said, putting an irritated emphasis on 'Ron', "if by _pansy _you mean _Draco, _then I believe that is none of your business." She glared at Ron, mentally urging him to leave her alone, but since Ron is not a brilliant mind reader, it didn't exactly work. 

Ginny, being the torn in-between friend, said, "But Hermione, you're hiding out at our house, and don't even deny that that is not what you are doing," she gave Hermione a knowing glance before continuing. "All _I _want to know is…what happened?" 

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh before answering, "Fine, you want to know what happened? I'll tell you just so long as you promise to _leave me alone._" She gave both Ginny and Ron pointed stares before speaking. "Okay…Draco and I got into a fight. I don't want to go into details because it's a bit personal, if you don't mind. But I will tell you that, yes, I am hiding out here and it'll only be a matter of time before Draco comes looking for me here. Now, what I'm asking of you two is that you _don't _let him in and tell him that I _don't_ want to talk to him…because I don't." 

With that, Hermione rolled over and a whispered, _Nox,_ was heard coming from her, ending the only light source in the room, the tip of her wand. Knowing that she probably wanted some time to herself, Ginny and Ron slipped out of the room as quietly as they were able to. They had just settled themselves in the den, when they heard a rapping at the front door. 

Ron threw Ginny a questioning glance before getting up and answering the door. 

From the den, Ginny couldn't see who was at the door, but she suspected that it was Draco. She could, however, hear muffled voices, both sounded like deep, male voices. Before she had a chance to register the thought, _It's Draco_, she heard the door slam and Ron stalked back into the den, angrier than before. 

"So, I'm right in assuming that our unexpected visitor was Draco?" Ginny asked, trying to sound casual. 

"Of course it was bloody Draco, Ginny. Who the hell else could it be?" Ron replied. 

"Well, did he leave?" Ginny asked a bit impatiently. 

"He better have, the bloody git," Ron snapped. 

"Well, you don't have to get all pissy with me," Ginny huffed, and left the den. 

Unbeknownst to Ron, Ginny went into the kitchen and out the back door. Running around to the front of the house, she made it just in time to see Draco mounting a broom. 

"Malfoy," she said, running up to him, "wait a second." 

"What?" Draco snapped. "Did you come out here to tell me I'm no good for your precious Hermione? Your brother did just as much." 

"No," Ginny replied coolly, "I actually came out here to help you. But if you're going to give me an attitude, well…" she turned to start walking back the way she came. 

"Wait…I'm sorry I snapped at you, I'm just so frustrated I could scream," Draco apologized. 

"It's quite all right," Ginny answered. "I understand and, like I said, I'm willing to help you out. But first, you have to tell me what happened." 

"Fine," Draco sighed, "I don't know what she has told you, but here goes nothing. I was sitting in my office, replying to some fan mail." 

Draco stopped to glare at Ginny, who rolled her eyes, before he continued. "Anyhow, I opened a letter and this pebble rolled out." He stopped to dig around for something in his pocket and handed Ginny, what looked to be, a pebble the size of a galleon. 

"I don't know who it's from, as there was no return address anywhere on the envelope. There wasn't even a letter. So, thinking it was just some weird prank, I threw it in my bedroom and continued with the fan mail. That's when Hermione came in. I heard her soft footsteps, but I wanted her to come find me, so I didn't say anything. Then, I'm guessing, she saw some projected image that came from that rock, don't ask how, but I heard her running so I tried to catch up with her. I finally did, but as I ran out I happened to glance into my bedroom. There, on the bed, was an image of some woman that I've never even seen. She was with me. We were…well…you know," he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. 

"Well, I caught up with her, but she Apparated away before I could say anything. I went back to investigate whatever it was that I saw and I found that," he pointed to the smooth stone. "And that's about it." 

"So, it's all just a big misunderstanding, then?" Ginny asked cautiously, after taking in everything he had told her. 

"Yes, it is," he replied. 

"Okay," Ginny said, after much thought, "I have a plan…"   
  
  


… 

Hermione distinguished the light from her wand, in hopes that her two redheaded friends would leave her alone. Though she wasn't tired, she would rather feign sleep than face the bombardment of questions that her friends would likely subject her to. 

After, what seemed, an hour or so, the door to the bedroom creaked open, slowly. Hermione thought it was probably Ginny coming to retire for the night, so Hermione rolled over to face her. Ginny had a blanket draped over her, hiding her. She also seemed a bit taller, but Hermione couldn't tell because she was lying down and the only light in the room was the glowing moonlight that was coming in through the window. 

All of a sudden, Ginny pointed her wand at the door, casting a locking and a silencing charm, and turned back to Hermione. 

"What are you doing—?" but before Hermione had a chance to finish what she was about to ask, Ginny threw the blanket off of her, exposing the calm and collected Draco. 

"Draco?!" Hermione half asked and half demanded, sitting up. "What are _you _doing here?" 

_"Lumos," _Draco whispered. Turning his attention back to Hermione, he spoke, "Hermione, please, you have to listen to me." 

"I don't have to do anything of the sort," Hermione straightened up and glared up at the still standing Draco. 

"Please let me explain, Hermione," Draco pleaded. 

"And pray tell, what could you possibly explain that would help you out in this whole situation?" Hermione demanded. 

"First of all, it wasn't me that you saw. I was in my office, replying to fan mail. So how could I have been in that…that…position, let alone, two places at once?" Draco asked. 

"I don't—" Hermione started to speak, but was once again cut off by Draco.

"Exactly, you _don't _know, do you?" Draco retorted. 

"Hey, you have no right to get mad in this situation," Hermione snapped, standing up. "You weren't the one to walk in and find you shagging some stranger," Hermione practically yelled. 

As if that last retort opened the floodgates, so to speak, to her emotions, Hermione started to cry. 

"How could you Draco? After everything…is it me? Am I not as pretty as your dedicated fan girls? Or is it my personality? Do you find me boring?" After letting that all out, she flopped back down on the bed and sobbed into her pillow. 

"No, no, no," Draco answered. "None of those things…in fact it wasn't even me that you saw." He sat down on the bed next to Hermione and started to rub her back, trying to sooth her. 

"Well, then what is it?" Hermione choked out in between her sobs. 

"It wasn't even me, Hermione," Draco started, and then went into the same long explanation he gave Ginny. 

After he was finished and Hermione had absorbed everything he had said, she sniffed and replied, "So, you expect me to believe that some rock was projecting an image of a fan shagging you?" 

"Well, yes," Draco said. "I think it works sort of like a Penseive. Except that the person was able to manipulate the other person…the image of me…into a memory and then extracted it from her mind, just like you would do with a Penseive. Then she somehow charmed the rock to replay that memory…I think. I'm not exactly sure, but that's the only answer I was able to come up with." 

Silence ensued, where Hermione was deep in thought. Finally she broke the silence by saying, "Prove it." 

"What?" Draco asked hesitatively. 

"Prove…It," Hermione said as if talking to a child. 

"All I have is the stone I told you about," Draco sighed as he reached in his pocket, yet again, to retrieve the smooth, round pebble. 

"Well, how did you turn on the…projected images?" Hermione asked impatiently. 

"I'm not sure," Draco replied. 

"That's not good enough. Now, if you'll be as so kind as to leave," Hermione said in a cold voice. 

"But…Hermione…you have to understand," Draco began. 

Hermione said, "Finite Incantatum," undoing both charms he originally placed, and unfortunately, cutting him off. Then she proceeded by opening the door and pushing him out. 

"Hermione," he pleaded, but she shut the door in his face. 

Draco kicked the wall next to the door and walked down the stairs. Ron was in the den the whole time and stood up to confront Draco. 

"How in the bloody hell did you get up there?" Ron demanded to know. 

"Oh, just shut it," Draco muttered. 

… 

As Hermione pushed Draco out, the stone fell to the floor, unnoticed to both of them. Hermione shut the door and turned. She gasped at what she saw. She saw the same thing she saw in Draco's flat. The image that was 'projected' in Draco's room was now projected in this room, too. 

"What the…" Hermione started, but remembered the rock. 

Looking around, she found it on the hardwood floor. The minute she touched the rock, the image disappeared. 

"That's strange," Hermione thought aloud. 

Trying to test a theory that was bubbling in her head, she tossed it back onto the floor. The image was, once again, projected from the stone. 

"Oh, no…he was right." 

…   
  


"Draco!" Hermione yelled. "Wait!" 

Draco, who was just starting to mount his broom, had the strange feeling of déjà vu. Turning around to face the person calling him, he came face to face with… 

"Hermione…"   
  


… 

"So, she's still there?" Harry asked. 

"Yeah, she's upstairs in Ginny's room," Ron, whose head was hovering in Harry's fireplace, replied. 

"I'll be right over. Step aside," Harry said. 

Ron quickly jerked his soot-covered head out of the fireplace, ending the connection with Harry's fireplace. The minute he turned around he saw Hermione running toward the front door. 

"Hermione, don't chase after that git!" Ron screamed after her, but she kept on running.   
  


…   
  


"Should we put in some elderly guidance?" Molly Weasley asked her husband.   
  
"No," Arthur replied, "I think we should just let them sort it out on their own. It'll all work out, you'll see." 

Molly snuggled up closer to her husband, as they lay in their bed, reading.   
  


…   
  


"Steady," Bill guided his little sister. "Steady, now." 

"And…we…did it!" Charlie yelled triumphantly. "Yes!" 

"After the third attempt at building this stupid house of cards, with an Exploding Snap deck, mind you, you'd think we'd learn," Ginny sighed, "that the whole point of this game is to…KNOCK EM' DOWN!" she cried as she swept an arm through the base of the foundation, scattering the cards everywhere, which began an onslaught of exploding cards. 

*THUMP-THUMP-THUMP* 

"Someone's running down the stairs," Charlie commented, still waiting for the cards to stop exploding. 

"Yup," Ginny replied. 

"Yup," Bill agreed, downing the rest of his tea. 

"I wonder who it is," Charlie pondered. 

"Hermione," the three said simultaneously.   
  


…   
  


"Draco, I was wrong," Hermione started. "I am so sorry for being so thick-headed." 

"I'm sorry, too, Hermione, for…for…upsetting you as much as I did," Draco replied. 

He walked up to Hermione and wrapped his arms around her, holding her protectively. 

"I love you, Hermione, and I would never do anything to hurt you," Draco said. 

"I love you, too, Draco," Hermione replied. She started to cry into his shirt. 

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Draco asked worriedly. 

"Me…you…I'm so stupid," he heard her say, though a bit muffled. 

"Please, don't cry," he said, trying to calm her down. He pulled back from the hug and looked down at her. Her head was hung, as if in shame, but Draco tilted her face upwards by her chin. 

Wiping his thumb under both eyes, he said softly, "I forgive you, if you forgive me." 

"Yes, you spoiled brat," Hermione replied, giggling like a schoolgirl. 

"I'm spoiled?" Draco asked with mock disbelief. 

"Yeah, mate," a new voice said, "you are."   
  


…   
  


Harry grabbed his stock of Floo powder and threw a handful into his fireplace. He shouted, "The Burrow!" and reappeared in the Weasley's fireplace, sooner than you can say, "bubotuber pus." 

"Ron?" Harry called. Ron, who was sitting in a randomly placed armchair, stood up. 

"You call that fast?" he asked with a big grin plastered on his face. Then, remembering the situation at hand, he scowled. "I think the two lovebirds are just about to make up." 

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's see the grand finale," Harry smirked.   
  


…   
  


"Oh, is that so, Potter?" Draco drawled, looking over at his raven-haired friend. 

"Yeah, it is," Ron answered for Harry. 

Draco was too happy at the moment to be mad at Ron, so he just smirked and turned back to his blushing bride-to-be. 

"Let's go home," he said. 

"All right, let's," Hermione replied with a meek grin.   
  


***   
  


**_One Month Later…_**   
  


_August, 1999_

_Saturday_

_6:00 pm_   
  


"Aand…Draco Malfoy has just caught the snitch!" the commentator yelled excitedly. "England has just won the Quidditch World Cup!" 

A thunderous roar of cheers came from half of the audience while the other half sulked. 

"Doesn't this bring you back to the summer before fourth year?" Ron asked. "Sitting in the top box, watching the Quidditch World Cup, surrounded by friends?" 

Before anyone had a chance to reply, the commentator continued talking. 

"Look at the seeker, Draco Malfoy, of the Falcons, everyone. It looks like he is writing a message…yes…in thin air." 

Indeed he was, and he wrote: 

_Thanks Potter, for…well, you know._   
  
  
  
  
  


The message hovered in the air, high above the pitch, before dissolving like a firecracker finishing its display. 

Hermione Malfoy and Harry Potter blushed, but exchanged knowing grins all the same. They knew what Draco had meant, and both Hermione and Draco had a lot to be thankful for to Harry. Without him, they wouldn't be, now, happily married, and there wouldn't be a happy ending, such as this.

* * * * *  
  
The following fic is in response to **Fic**** Request #22** which stated the following conditions:   
  
**Rating(s) of the Fic:** PG-13  
  
**3-5 Things to Include in the Fic:**  
1. Set one year after Graduation when they've all started working  
2. Harry Potter playing cupid to Draco and Hermione  
3. Draco playing for England in the Quidditch World Cup  
4. A HUGE fight between Draco and Hermione  
5. A very happy Drace/Hermione ending  
  
**What Not to Include in the Fic:**  
alive!Voldemort, fluff, Draco/Hermione deaths   
  
* * * * *


End file.
